


Peel back the dark

by EmmaArthur



Series: Whumptober 2019 [23]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, Leverage AU, M/M, Whumptober, thieves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 02:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaArthur/pseuds/EmmaArthur
Summary: Meeting point 1, in two days, 10 am. Need your help, the text says. Michael hasn't seen Alex in eight months, not since they scattered after a job went wrong. Leverage AU.





	Peel back the dark

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober day 26: **Abandoned**
> 
> This is mostly off-prompt, though the word is there. It's the start of a Leverage AU, that will become long fic. There's only a hint of Leverage here, but the longer story will be a job fic. 
> 
> Note: if you want to be notified when more is posted, subscribe to the series (RNM Leverage AU) not this fic, as I will be posting it separately.
> 
> Huge thanks to InsidiousIntent for helping me figure out both this fic and the longer story!
> 
> [mentions past injuries and amputation, past abuse, past bullying]

_Meeting point 1, in two days, _ _10 am_ _. Need your help,_ the text says. It's from an unknown number, but Michael knows who sent it. He knows the only person who could find his own new number, registered under an alias.

He stares at the phone for a full five minutes.  Dozens of thoughts go through his head. Did Alex call the others, too, or just him? No,  _need your help_ probably means he needs the crew, not just him. Is he okay? Okay enough to send a text, at least. There's simply no way to  know more,  except show up at the meeting . None of them has heard even a rumor about Alex for eight months, ever since he told them to scatter. Ever since he got injured because of Michael.

_Shit. _ Michael is supposed to be over that guilt. Alex is alive. He promised he would be fine. Isobel and Liz have been trying to get him to get over it, but Michael can't forget. He can't forget the look on Alex's face when Michael announced to the crew that he and Maria  had started dating, the day before he got his leg crushed under a bus pulling Michael out of the way.

_I'll be there,_ he texts back, then, switching conversation threads,  _Did you get it to?_ to Isobel.

_I did, _ Isobel answers immediately. 

_You going?_

_Of course._

Of course. It's Alex. The missing part of their crew. They scattered like he asked, since it's always been their contingency plan, but they're family. Even if they're not pulling jobs, they aren't supposed to cut contact completely, not for more than a month. Liz and Max faked a honeymoon in the Bahamas to get the heat of their back, Isobel went hiking in Oregon and Michael hid out in Seattle for a while, but they've all been back in New Mexico for months. Except Alex.

So when Michael pulls up in front of the Wild Pony two days later, he doesn't know what to expect. He and Maria only lasted until she realized how awful he felt, but they were friends long before they tried dating, and they've repaired their relationship enough to be comfortable with each other again. It's a good thing, if Maria's bar is going to become their base of operations again.

The bar isn't open at this hour. Michael finds the back door opened, though, and he walks in to find Maria behind the bar and Isobel, Max and Liz sitting at their usual table. Isobel pats the chair beside her and he sits down.

“Have you heard anything?” he asks immediately.

“No more than the text,” Liz shakes her head. “I hope he's okay.”

“Me too,” Isobel murmurs.

“I'm fine,” a voice comes from behind Michael. He jumps, and turns to find Alex standing behind him, close to the door. A quick check tells him that no one heard him come in. Alex can be completely silent when he puts his mind to it.

He looks good. A little thinner than before, maybe, his hair longer, but his skin is tanned and his arms are even more defined than Michael remembers, in the form-fitting long sleeved shirt he's wearing. He walks over, and Michael can barely detect a limp in his gait.

So his leg healed, after all. Michael internally sighs in relief. It didn't look good, when they took him to the hospital. He remembers the surgeon saying it was unlikely Alex would regain full use of his lower leg and foot. That would have put an end to Alex's hitting days.

That's the reason Alex told them to scatter, Michael knows. Without him to protect them, they're safer each on their own. They all know how to disappear, to fade into the crowd.  Alex covered their tracks even from his hospital bed, hacking security cameras with his phone and getting them clean IDs.

“Alex!” Liz exclaims, standing up to hug him. Alex submits to it with no more than a grunt, though he's never been one for human contact−except with Michael. He nods at Max over Liz's shoulder, and Isobel just waves, though she looks like she wants to hug him too. She knows how to read him.

Then Liz sits back down, and they find themselves frozen, Michael, Alex and Maria, in a strange triangle none of them ever wanted. Michael feels nauseous, suddenly.

He justified it to himself by saying that he did nothing wrong, at first. He and Alex weren't together. They've been everything from lovers to friends with benefit to barely speaking colleagues, in the five years they worked together. None of the phases ever last. They usually end up falling into bed without talking first, which just make the resentment mount up, until they implode again.

So when Michael hooked up with Maria, on one drunken night out in Texas, one of the rare time s she came with the crew for a job, he and Alex weren't together.  He didn't cheat on Alex.

It suddenly didn't matter anymore, when Alex stormed out of the bar that night. The look on his face, the tight smile when he said “I hope you're happy,” and fucking actually meant it because it's Alex, Alex who never thinks he's enough, Alex who never believes he deserves the nice things, Alex, who donated the several millions they made out of one of their first jobs to an organization dedicated to getting abused children out of bad situations. Michael can't get that look out of his mind, even eight months later.

“It's good to see you,” Maria finally breaks the spell. She hesitantly extends a hand to Alex, and he pulls her into a hug, despite his clear aversion to touching anyone right now.

“It's good to see you too,” he murmurs.

“I'm so sorry,” Maria says when she pulls back. 

Alex catches her eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“We're not together anymore,” Maria adds, throwing a look at Michael.

Michael has remained frozen throughout, standing beside his chair, staring at them.

“Guerin,” Alex says. Somehow, it has hints of both the term of endearment it's often been from him, and the coldness of their worst moments. Michael doesn't know what to do with it.

“Alex,” he answers. He wants to throw himself in Alex's arms, and to run as far away from here as possible at the same time. He stays frozen.

Alex makes an aborted move, hesitates, then seems to say  _fuck it_ and pulls Michael in by his collar to kiss him. Michael starts, surprised, but he quickly returns the kiss.

It has a desperate quality that too many of their kisses over the years have had, exacerbated by being apart for eight months, by Michael's worry and guilt, by whatever Alex has gone through that he doesn't know about.

And then they pull apart, and the moment is over. Alex slides into a seat and pulls Michael down with him, and they're a crew again.

“As I said, I need your help,” Alex says. “I have a job.”

“Does that mean we're on again?” Isobel asks.

“For this one job, at least. This one's personal.”

“And you're back?” Liz asks. “For real? Your leg, is it fully healed?”

Alex takes a deep breath. “Not...exactly,” he says.

He gets five confused looks. Sighing softly, he pulls his right leg up until his foot is resting against the edge of the table, and he pulls up his pant leg, revealing a titanium limb.

Liz puts a hand over her mouth. Max and Isobel stare. Maria looks close to tear.

Michael wants to throw up. He almost does, right there and then.

This is  _his _ fault.

“The surgeon tried to save it, but in the end there was too much damage,” Alex says. “It's okay. I'm fine now.”

“Alex−” Liz starts, but Alex stops her with a gesture, dropping his leg back down.

“Moving on,” he says. “The job is going to be a tricky one. I want you to know that you don't have to accept it, and you can pull out anytime.”

That's a rule they set early on, that everyone could get out the moment they felt uncomfortable, even if it meant stopping a job in the middle. They've rarely used it, but it's happened.

“Noted,” Max says. “What's the job?”

“First, I want to pull someone in,” Alex says. “He's our client, but we're going to need him to play a large part, so I'd like him to be part of the brainstorming.”

“Are you sure?” Isobel asks. “We don't−”

“I know we don't usually do this, but it's important. Are you willing to trust me?”

“Of course,” Liz says immediately.

Alex waits until he's had assent from all of them, even Maria, before he pulls out his phone to call someone. “The bar is called the Wild Pony,” he says. “Meet us there. Park at least a block away.”

He hangs up after only a second. “He'll be here in ten minutes,” he says. “I'm going to the bathroom.” He stands up before anyone can say anything. Michael watches him leave, his limp more pronounced than before. Or maybe that's just because Michael knows what causes it, now.

“I'm gonna−” he says, standing in turn and waving vaguely.

“Go,” Maria encourages him.

He finds Alex readjusting his prosthetic, his leg propped up on a small bench outside the bathroom. Alex doesn't look up until he's hitched his pant leg back down fully.

“I−” Michael starts, but he can't seem to find his words.

“Please don't apologize,” Alex says. “At least not for this,” he gestures to his leg.

“Okay. Can I apologize for the mess with Maria?”

Alex looks at him thoughtfully. “You did nothing wrong,” he says. “We weren't together.”

Echoed like this, Michael's own guilty thoughts ring even worse. “I did. I knew it would hurt you, and I did it anyway. I'm sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Alex nods. “I am sorry I disappeared for so long. I meant to come back earlier, but this took some time.”

“You went through all this on your own?”

Alex looks down.  “It was better that way. I found a good rehab center, and−”

“Alex,” Michael stops him.

“What?”

Michael turns the words in his head before he says them. They've never been good at talking, but that's what's been their downfall so many times. He wants−he  _needs_ −to do better.

“I wish you'd let me be there for you,” he says. “I know it was a bad time, and I hurt you, but−”

“It wasn't that, not really,” Alex shakes his head. 

“Then what?”

“It was safer to stay away for a while. And...I didn't know how you'd react. I didn't want you to stay just because you felt pity for me. And I didn't want to face the possibility that...you might not stay.”

“You thought I'd _abandon_ you because you lost a leg?” Michael asks, shocked.

“I can't be a hitter anymore, Michael. I can't protect you.”

“And I don't love you because you protect me!” Michael exclaims. “I love you because of who you are, not what you can do! I would have stayed because I want to help you, to support you. Did you think all this time that I saw you as nothing but a tool?”

The very idea hurts. It hurts to be reminded how little Alex thinks of himself, that his view is so skewed that he would think Michael capable of that. Michael doesn't blame him for thinking that, he knows it comes from the dark in Alex past−a dark he was part of, if only a little bit−but it still stings a little.

Alex shakes his head. “I know you don't,” he says. “But... it's hard to remember, sometimes.”

M ichael nods in understanding. “Still. Don't disappear on me again, okay?”

“I hope I won't have a reason to,” Alex says. “But you know I can't promise anything.”

“I know,” Michael sighs.

Alex's phone buzzes. “He's here,” he says. “I'll open the door for him.”

Michael lets him go. He closes his eyes for a moment, leaning against the wall. Fuck this. The emotional roller coaster is too much, but Alex is  _here_ . Alex kissed him. It's something.

A lex comes back with a another man. Michael blinks when he realizes that it is, of all people, Kyle Valenti.

“What the fuck−” he starts, but Alex stops him.

“Kyle called me for help,” he says. “He was also my surgeon for the amputation. I trust him.”

Michael takes a deep breath. He only remembers Valenti as the worse homophobic bully in high school, but it has been ten years. It's possible he's changed, he supposes. Still, his very presence make Michael's skin crawl.

“Guerin,” Valenti nods to him. “Evans. DeLuca. Liz.”

Liz stands up. “Kyle. It's been a long time.”

“You'll have time to catch up,” Alex says. “For now, let's talk about the job.”

“Yes, what is it?” Isobel says. “You're being mysterious.”

“A couple of months ago, when he came back to Roswell, Kyle started getting blackmailed because of something his father used to work on. After he figured out what it was all about, he came to me.”

“And? Dammit Alex, spit it out!” Michael says. Alex gives him an amused smile, then sobers up.

“It's Caulfield,” he answers. “We're going after my father.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I'd love to hear any theories on what the job is going to be, what role each of the crew members have (I didn't stick to canon roles exactly) or any other thought you have!


End file.
